The Mystery of the Blazing Cliffs - M. V. Carey [1]
“There’s a book called They Walk Among Us that tells about the rescuers,” Jupiter explained to his uncle. “It’s by a man named Contreras. It describes a race of people from the planet Omega. They are keeping watch over us, and eventually, after a catastrophe overwhelms our planet, they’ll rescue some of us so that our civilization won’t be lost forever.”
“Oh, you know about the deliverance!” cried Mrs. Barron. “How nice!”
“Ridicu—” Uncle Titus started to say when Aunt Mathilda spoke up in a brisk, no-nonsense tone. “Jupiter knows about a great many things,” she said. “Sometimes I think he knows too much.”
Aunt Mathilda then took Mrs. Barron’s arm and led her away. She was talking rapidly about the virtues of several used kitchen chairs when Jupe’s closest friends, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews, ambled into the salvage yard.
“Morning, Pete,” said Uncle Titus. “How are you, Bob? You’re just in time. Mrs. Jones has a big job lined up for you boys. She’ll tell you about it as soon as we finish with these customers.”
Without waiting for an answer, Uncle Titus went off with Mr. Barron, who had locked his car and who now seemed to be angry with the world in general rather than with Hans in particular.
“You missed the excitement,” said Jupiter to his friends, “but there may be more.”
“What happened?” demanded Bob.
Jupiter grinned. “We’ve got a bad-tempered customer. But when he isn’t yelling at Hans, he’s picking out very unusual items to buy.” Jupe gestured toward the back of the yard.
Jupiter’s uncle and aunt were showing Mr. and Mrs. Barron an old-fashioned treadle sewing machine which was still in working order. As the boys watched, Uncle Titus lifted the machine and carried it towards the other things that Charles Barron had purchased that day. These included two wood-burning stoves, a churn with a broken handle, an ancient hand loom, and a hand-cranked phonograph.
“What a pile of junk!” said Pete. “What are those people going to do with a broken churn? Turn it into a plantpot?”
“Maybe they collect antiques,” guessed Bob.
“I don’t think so,” said Jupe, “though some of those things are old enough to be antiques. But the Barrons seem to want to use everything. Mr. Barron has been questioning Uncle Titus to make sure they can. Some of the things are broken, like the churn, but all of them can be fixed again. The stoves are already in good shape. Mr. Barron took the lids off and looked at the grates to make sure they were intact, and he’s buying all the stovepipe we have on hand.”
“I’ll bet Aunt Mathilda is happy,” said Pete. “Now she can unload some of that junk she thought she’d never get rid of. Maybe she’ll get lucky and those people will turn into steady customers.”
“She’d like that, but Uncle Titus wouldn’t,” said Jupe. “He can’t stand Mr. Barron.
The man is rude and unreasonable, and he’s been in a rage since he arrived at eight this morning and found the gate still locked. He said it didn’t do much good for him to get up before dawn if everyone else in the world slept until noon.”
“He said that at eight in the morning?” asked Bob.
Jupe nodded. “Yes, he did. Mrs. Barron seems nice enough, but Mr. Barron is sure that either everyone is trying to cheat him or no one knows his own business.”
Bob looked thoughtful. “His name’s Barron, huh? There was an article about a man named Barron in the Los Angeles Times a few weeks ago. If it’s the same man, he’s a millionaire who bought a ranch up north somewhere. He’s going to grow his own food and be self-sufficient.”
“So that’s what the churn is all about,” said Pete. “He’s going to churn his own butter and … and … Hey Jupe, he’s headed right for Headquarters!”
It was true! At the far side of the yard, Charles Barron had pushed aside a splintery plank so that he could examine a rusted lawn chair. Jupe saw that he was very close to the barrier of carefully arranged salvage that concealed an old mobile-home trailer—a trailer that was the Headquarters of the boys’ detective agency, The Three Investigators.
“I’ll